


Penniless Paramours

by Umbr_el_on



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen, Homelessness, Marriage Proposal, Minor Character Death, Orphans, Sibling Bonding, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26254408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbr_el_on/pseuds/Umbr_el_on
Summary: This is the story of Ashe Ubert. At eight years old, he’d lost everything by the time he’d made it to Enbarr with his siblings. When another young orphan, Dorothea, steps in to help them in a moment of need, they’re set on a course of growth and well-earned happiness neither of them could have prepared for.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21
Collections: 2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang





	Penniless Paramours

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much [Natalie](https://mobile.twitter.com/natendo_art) for being an awesome friend and partner for this event. Her energy and hype for this story were huge in helping it grow into what it is. You can find her stunning art for this fic here. Please go shower her with some well-deserved love!  
> ~  
> Lyra and Oliver’s birthdays are May 26 and April 4, respectively! I love thinking about the timeline of fics, so outlining this was the first thing I did to begin this story. It may not be perfect, but it was fun to consider and helped a great deal in adjusting tone for their ages while incorporating seasonal elements into every scene.

**11th of the Great Tree Moon, 1171**

Ashe watched the first budding flowers on the trees shake in the breeze as his mommy and daddy were added to the pit. Terror crawled up his spine, widening his eyes as faceless adults worked around him. He vaguely understood that this would be the first of many mass graves in Fhirdiad, an unfortunate necessity in the face of the plague sweeping through the country. He only now understood what that meant, as he dared a glance down at his mommy and daddy’s sprawled bodies.

His fixation was broken by a familiar hand on his shoulder. His aunt, Isabelle, looked down at him with sad, gentle eyes. Lyra and Oliver clung to her skirt, faces pale and eyes puffy from crying. Oliver looked confused, and Lyra looked somewhere between afraid and lonely. Ashe knew he should have cried with them, but all he felt was nothing. He looked back at his parents again, realizing this was the last time he’d ever see them.

“Ashe, honey, we need to go home and get ready.” Isabelle squeezed Ashe’s shoulder, grounding him to his body.

With a nod and one last kiss blown to his parents, Ashe took Isabelle’s hand. Lyra let go of Isabelle’s skirt to hold Ashe’s other hand, giving Oliver room to walk while he stayed pressed against Isabelle. When Lyra sobbed softly, Ashe squeezed her hand with what strength he had left. The siblings’ thin arms shook under the weight of the world.

In the blur of grief and hollowness and confusion, the walk to the house went by too fast. Ashe, Lyra, and Oliver unhooked themselves from each other and dashed to their shared room as soon as the front door opened. They huddled on their bed, quivering and heartbroken. When Isabelle hovered in the doorway with a pained expression, Ashe held his siblings closer. He felt as though he needed to protect them, but he didn’t know what he was protecting them from.

“Alright, darlings, can you pack up for me? A few changes of clothes and a couple of toys each,” Isabelle cooed, setting down three small bags in the doorway.

Ashe untangled himself from Lyra and Oliver, despite their attempts to cling. Taking one of the bags, Ashe walked over to his dresser and put a few random clothing items inside. Isabelle helped him make sure he had full sets of clothes. By the time he was done, Lyra and Oliver had begun doing the same. They were really good at playing follow the leader.

When the time came to pick toys, Ashe started to break down. He sniffled as he held up a small wooden plate. He remembered when his dad carved it for his birthday. It still looked new, as did the tiny pans and utensils that went with it. A whole cooking set for him to practice with. As a tear slipped down his face, Ashe put his chosen toys into his bag. They might need things to cook with later.

“Thank you, you’re all so brave. Why don’t we all go to the big bedroom and get some rest together?” Isabelle gathered up the packed bags, walking out into the main room to set them beside a much larger bag.

As soon as she sat down on the blankets she’d spread on the cold dirt floor, the children descended on her. Oliver flopped onto her chest, Lyra curled against one side, and Ashe took the other. They fell into fitful sleep soon after, the weight of loss pressing them down into darkness.

* * *

**12th of the Great Tree Moon, 1171**

When Ashe woke up, Isabelle was gone. Sitting up, Ashe cried out in panic. The sound woke Lyra and Oliver, who looked around the room groggily. Ashe scrambled to his feet, shaking hard. Mommy and daddy were gone, was Isabelle gone too? Ashe wailed, looking around the room once more.

Isabelle ran in from the kitchen. She scooped Ashe up and held him to her chest with surprising ease for an old woman, hushing him and rocking him against her. Ashe shoved his face against her shoulder, hands curled into her shirt.

“I’m so sorry, love. I’m just making breakfast before we go,” Isabelle explained, voice cracking.

Ashe sniffled and nodded as he was set back down. Isabelle returned to the kitchen for a few minutes before she came back with sliced bread and lukewarm broth. They ate hastily, silent and unsure. Isabelle let them leave the bowls on the floor. Ashe started to gather them to take to the sink, but she stopped him.

“Not now, Ashe. It’s okay.”

“Okay…” Ashe muttered.

Mommy and daddy always put dirty dishes away. They also taught him to be respectful. As a result, he didn’t hesitate when Isabelle had them grab the bags they’d packed. Ashe helped Oliver put on his, and they stepped out into the chilly Spring morning. Isabelle led them through the streets of Fhirdiad, eventually joining them with a group of people gathered in a plaza. Ashe recognizes it as just a few minutes walk away from where mommy and daddy wanted to open their new restaurant. When they were noticed, Ashe felt like something was wrong.

“You brought children? There’s no way they’ll survive!” A woman shouted from the edge of the crowd, looking and sounding angry.

Ashe, Lyra, and Oliver shuffled behind Isabelle as she snapped back. “What do you propose I do, leave them here to die alone?”

An older man stepped forward, sympathetic gaze fixed on Isabelle. “She’s right, Isa. A three-year-old should not be traveling across the country. Neither should a five-year-old, or even a seven-year-old, for that matter.”

Ashe took offense to that and stomped around Isabelle. “Don’t talk to my auntie like that!”

A few surprised looks landed on Ashe. Some people chuckled. His moment of courage gone, he backed up until he bumped into Isabelle’s legs. She rested her hands on his shoulders, adjusting the straps of his bag to rest more comfortably.

“My mind will not change. They’re coming with me, with  _ us _ ,” Isabelle insisted, ushering them towards the crowd.

Someone walked through with a sheet of parchment, calling out names and checking them off. Ashe looked around at the adults, who all appeared the same to him. They looked like the adults that buried mommy and daddy. They looked scary. Then, Ashe looked back at Lyra and Oliver. They looked scared.

Steeling himself, Ashe followed the group as they began walking. He had no idea where they were going, he realized, as they walked out the city gates. He thought about the bowls sitting on the floor at home. Would they be too dirty to keep when they went back?

“Where are we going?” Ashe called up to Isabelle after the city was out of sight.

“Enbarr, my dear. They treat commoners much better in the Empire. We’ll have a wonderful life there, safe and peaceful.” Isabelle ruffled Ashe’s hair and smiled at him.

Ashe smiled back, put at ease by Isabelle’s steady assertion that things would be okay. When they settled down for their first night camping at sunset, Ashe used his cooking set to mix alongside Isabelle. He knew they’d need it.

* * *

**22nd of the Horsebow Moon, 1171**

When the stone walls of another settlement appeared on the horizon, framed by green and gold trees, Ashe sighed in relief. It had been days since they’d last stopped somewhere like this. The relief was shared by their convoy, who cheered and whistled while everyone marched on with renewed energy over the yellowed grass of autumn. Oliver ran with clumsy movements, arms swinging wildly while he laughed. Lyra started skipping. Isabelle fell behind.

When Ashe realized his aunt wasn’t beside them anymore, he looked back to see her struggling to keep up, feet dragging through the dry grass with a tight expression. Falling back to walk with her, Ashe gave her a curious look.

“Are you okay, auntie?”

Isabelle answered with a weak smile, even as she stumbled and winced. “Fine, dear. Just a little tired.”

Ashe nodded, sticking with her during the rest of the walk. She often stopped, taking breaks during which Ashe would help her drink water and find shade under the gold and orange trees. It took just under a half-day to make it to the wall, with Ashe and Isabelle catching up to everyone after about fifteen minutes. Ashe heard someone call the place a ‘monastery’ and wondered what that was.

When the front gate opened, everyone poured inside. Ashe and Isabelle rejoined Lyra and Oliver, who had been under the supervision of a young couple Isabelle had chatted with earlier in the day. The woman had pale brown hair, standing beside a man with black hair and thick glasses. They looked familiar, but Ashe couldn’t place why. Approaching them, Ashe smiled and put his hands on his hips.

“I think I know you,” he announced, earning warm grins from the strangers in question.

The man answered him. “You probably do, Ashe. My name is Makar. My wife, Arya, and I ate at your family’s restaurant often.”

“Oh! Okay.” Ashe nodded, satisfied with the explanation.

“They’re going to help you the rest of the way to Enbarr,” Isabelle added, patting Oliver’s head while she spoke.

“What about you?” Lyra asked, voice so soft it was barely audible over the bustle of the courtyard.

“I’ll be–” Isabelle started, but Arya cut her off.

“What are you doing? You don’t need to tell them just yet,” she scolded, shaking her head.

“Tell us what?” Ashe asked, voice small with anxiety.

“That I’m staying here, at Garreg Mach. I’m a bit too old and tired to make it the rest of the way, but I know you kids can do it. Makar and Arya are going to take care of you.”

Lyra wailed, which prompted Oliver to do the same while Ashe tried and failed to help them. Arya jumped in, hugging them both to her chest while she looked comfortingly at Ashe. Makar was whispering sharply to Isabelle, but Ashe couldn’t understand what they were saying. His resolve breaking, Ashe ran right into Isabelle’s legs.

“You can’t! You can’t go! I’ll carry your bag, a-and cook for us! Please,” Ashe shouted so loudly his throat ached.

Isabelle kneeled down in front of Ashe, her body cracking in protest. She laid a hand over Ashe’s cheek, rubbing her thumb over his sunburned skin. Ashe leaned into the contact, seeking the comfort of a familiar touch.

“Ashe, I want you to help your siblings for me. Makar and Arya will be there to help, but I know you love them and would do anything to keep them safe. Please, for me, be strong for them. You can always come and visit me after you’ve rested in Enbarr.” Isabelle’s gaze was level, instilling confidence beyond what any seven-year-old should have into Ashe.

Nodding and collecting himself, Ashe stepped away and let Isabelle’s hand fall from his cheek. She rose again with more cracks and a grunt before walking to Lyra and Oliver. She bid them all farewell, declaring that she was going straight to the infirmary. Ashe didn’t know what that was, but he knew he wouldn’t see her again for a long time.

Arya and Makar tried to talk with the kids over dinner and as they cleaned up for bed, but the effort was fruitless. They were exhausted, broken by loss and travel and heat and hunger. They were tucked into bed with full stomachs, wrapped in scratchy sheets in a room across from where Arya and Makar slept. Left alone as his siblings slept, Ashe finally let himself cry.

He sobbed so hard his body shook, the movements making his burned skin ache. His face felt hot and wet, tears soaking his pillow and sticking it to his face. His fist disconnected it, slamming the cushion down against the bed. Everything hurt, in ways he’d never felt before. Was he sick?

Ashe sniffled and looked at the door when light poured into the room. Arya was standing there, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She walked with light steps to Ashe’s bed, sitting on the side. Ashe crossed his arms, defensive and embarrassed. Arya didn’t try to speak. She let him feel out the pain and kept him intact with gentle fingers in his hair until he finally gave in to sleep.

* * *

**26th Guardian Moon, 1171**

The gates of Enbarr looked like the gates to every other city that Ashe had seen throughout the time spent traveling. They didn’t look like home or a warm welcome, with ice hanging from ledges and a chilly wind blowing into their faces. The gates looked like another city where they’d go to bed in cold places with too little food to be comfortable. Even Arya and Makar seemed uncertain, their smiles too thin and tight to put Ashe and his siblings at ease. As everyone filed inside under the close supervision of guards, Ashe clutched his bag close and formed a chain of hand-holding with Lyra and Oliver.

When the guards started shouting, the people around them started to jostle and push. Oliver tripped and fell, being snatched up by Arya just in time for people to step over where he’d been. Ashe felt trapped, unable to see through the forest of people in a panic. Makar grabbed Ashe and Lyra and tried to push to the side, but people raced by and battered them until they fell in with the flow of bodies.

Ashe stumbled over his own feet while they rushed into the city. Ashe could hear metal slamming against metal behind them, and heard someone shriek seconds later. How could the guards do this? They just wanted a new home.

When they finally made it past the worst of it, Makar let Ashe and Lyra grab onto each other while Arya set down Oliver, who rushed to join them. Catching their breath, they checked their bags to see that they had their things. Ashe quivered as he looked into his pack, relieved to see his wooden pan sitting on top.

“‘M scared,” Oliver whined, throwing his bag on the floor.

“I know, Ollie. We just have to find somewhere to sleep while things settle down.” Arya handed Oliver his pack again.

“Makar?” When Ashe turned to Lyra after she spoke, he found her looking petrified.

Another crowd was headed towards them, driven by Imperial guards with weapons racing behind them. Arya and Makar took action a second too late, their hands just inches away from the kids when the crowd came over them.

Ashe, Lyra, and Oliver clung together with all the strength they had as they were knocked around. They heard a few screams from Arya and Makar as they tried to push through to reunite. Those screams were lost in the chaos a few seconds later. The trio of children were pushed and spun around for what felt like hours before they stumbled sideways, just outside of the panicked refugees.

“Stop! You’re under arrest for entering the city under false pretenses!” A guard yelled, dragging a struggling woman to the ground.

“I had no idea! Please, I just–” The words died in her throat when the guard slammed her face into the ground.

Ashe turned his head away. Were they not allowed to be here? Would the guards sit on Lyra and Oliver like that? Ashe didn’t want to wait and find out. Grabbing his siblings by their arms, Ashe charged in the direction he’d last seen Arya and Makar. The mob was gone, leaving behind only those who had fallen to the ground, from exhaustion or injury or death.

When Ashe spotted a woman with pale brown hair on the ground next to a man with black hair and thick glasses, he stopped. There was a pool of red on the ground around them, soaking into the dirt and staining their clothes. Dread sank into Ashe’s gut like a stone dropped in a lake. He turned them away, trying to leave before Lyra and Oliver could see.

“Oh no,” Lyra whispered, her free hand flying over her mouth.

“We have to go before the guards find us,” Ashe sighed, tugging them along.

Oliver whined, confused again as they changed direction. Ashe didn’t let them stop until they were deep in the city, blending in with the residents in some kind of shopping center. Ashe saw a few other unsupervised children hiding in the shadows, and he felt a little less out of place.

Finding an alley for them to duck into, Ashe sat them on the ground. He set his pack down in the middle of them, motioning for them to do the same. Oliver shook his head, hugging the pack to his chest. When Ashe reached out to take it with a huff, Oliver toppled onto his back to escape.

“No!” Oliver rolled onto his side and curled around the pack.

“Give it to me!” Lyra reached over and tried to tear the pack out of Oliver’s grasp.

Oliver screamed, and Lyra kept clawing at it. They started to roll around, grunting and groaning. Ashe paused for only a second before he reached over and pried them apart. Lyra flopped over and crossed her arms over her chest while Oliver resumed clutching his bag.

“Ollie, are you hungry?” Ashe asked softly, pulling his bag open.

Oliver perked up and looked at Ashe, nodding. “Lyra?”

“Yes,” Lyra sighed, opening her bag to realize that she didn’t have any rations left; they’d finished them off expecting to get food in Enbarr.

“Well,” Ashe pulled some coins out of his bag, “if we all find the money in our bags, we can go buy food in the market. Okay?”

With that explained, Oliver unfurled from his bag. He handed it over to Ashe, hugging his knees to his chest. Scraping together everything they had left them with about 100 gold. It was the most money Ashe had ever held in his hands.

Taking a deep breath, Ashe started to divvy up the funds. He didn’t know when they’d be able to get help, so he wanted to save what they could. He tried to think about how much food would cost, but he had no idea. He set aside five coins to shop with, putting the rest back into his bag.

“If we spend this much per day…” Ashe trailed off, straining his head to do some simple math, “we’ll be okay for 20 days.”

“Okay… Let’s go see what we can find?” Lyra stood up, dusting herself off and straightening her clothes.

“You stay here with Ollie. Don’t draw attention. I’ll be back soon.” Ashe hid his coins in a pocket and stood, kicking his bag back with his foot.

“Okay, we’ll be quiet,” Lyra sighed, sitting back down and hugging Oliver.

Ashe walked into the market and approached the first food stand he saw. Fruits, vegetables, loaves of bread, jars of broth, and foods Ashe didn’t recognize were packed around the stand. Eyeing the prices, Ashe gathered up a loaf of bread, an apple, and a jar of chicken broth. When he showed the goods to the vendor, he got a pitying look. Maybe that’s why they only took four coins when Ashe knew it should have been five.

With the food in his arms, Ashe made it back to where Lyra and Oliver had settled down deep in the alley. Ashe set the food down, tearing the bread into thirds while Lyra unscrewed the lid on the jar of broth.

“Apple, please,” Oliver chirped, grabbing at the apple.

“Okay, but only a few bites. We need to share,” Ashe explained, handing Oliver the apple.

As they dug into their first meal alone, Ashe questioned what could happen next. They were alone in a new city, across the country from everything and everyone they’d known. Isabelle was far away, and Arya and Makar were dead. He felt responsibility crushing him.

If only it had been another year before things got scary. If he was 10, this would be so much easier to handle. But he couldn’t change that it was happening now, so he’d just have to focus on being a good big brother until they figured something out. Ashe shoved a chunk of bread into his mouth, pouring all of his attention on splitting the food and deciding if they could sleep here for the night.

* * *

**6th of the Pegasus Moon, 1171**

What should have lasted them 20 days ran out after 11. One loaf of bread, an apple, and a jar of broth were nowhere near enough to get them through an entire day. It started with two rounds of those inexpensive goods, and then a few other food items snuck in, but then Oliver started to get sick. The cold of deep winter was harsh on his hungry body, so Ashe bought them a blanket to huddle under after piling their clothes over themselves wasn’t enough. That blanket was a huge blow to what they had.

When Ashe heard Lyra’s stomach growl, he knew he had to do something. He was hungry, too, but palming at his empty pockets left him unsure of what he could do to help. It was an awful thing to do, but maybe he could try and snag something from a shop. Something cheap and small, just enough to hold over them until he could come up with something else.

“I’ll be back soon,” Ashe muttered, rolling out from under the blanket and getting to his feet.

Shaking, Ashe stepped out into the market. Ice crunched under his shoes, taking away any hope of being able to run unnoticed. He looked around, lost, until his eyes found a stand that had goods spread out onto tables next to where the shopkeeper stood. They looked distracted as they spoke to another customer. Quietly, anxiously, Ashe walked up to the farthest part of the table from where they were. In a flash, Ashe had two handfuls of cranberries in his hands and was walking back to his siblings.

When he finally made it back, seemingly unnoticed, Ashe sighed and fell to his knees. He dropped the cranberries onto one of his spare shirts. Lyra and Oliver cheered and scooted closer, gobbling up the much-needed snack. Ashe couldn’t find it in himself to eat.

“That shop is one of the easier ones to steal from. Good job,” an unfamiliar female voice cooed from behind him.

Ashe whipped around to see a young girl standing just inside the alley. She had brown hair to her shoulders, with wide eyes that scanned over the area. Her clothes were just as tattered as Ashe’s. Eyeing her cautiously, Ashe put himself more pointedly between the stranger and his siblings. He held an arm out in front of Oliver, which Oliver clung to.

“W-who are you?” Ashe squeaked, his attempt to sound brave failing.

“My name is Dorothea,” the girl said, walking a few slow steps forward before settling onto her knees, unbothered by the icy ground. “You’re new here, right?”

Ashe hesitated for a second before nodding. At that, the girl smiled and brushed her hair back over her shoulder. Silence hung over them for a few more seconds. Ashe heard Lyra shifting around behind him.

“We don’t wanna bother anyone…” Lyra sounded like she was about to cry, but Ashe couldn’t risk looking away to comfort her.

Dorothea laughed, an easy and musical sound. “You’re not a bother. I’m here to offer some help, if you want it.”

Ashe tilted his head. “Help?”

“I’ve been out on my own for a few months now. I know some good places to hide, which shops to take from, and how to keep warm. Would you like that?” Dorothea was calm and collected, smiling softly even as she spoke.

Before Ashe could respond, Oliver hummed out his agreement. Lyra muttered something in return that sounded like a yes as well. Unwilling to deny his siblings the help they needed and wanted, Ashe nodded. The girl looked about his age, so what harm could she do that they weren’t already at risk of?

“Okay,” Ashe said, shifting to sit cross-legged.

Dorothea’s smile brightened, but she didn’t come closer. “Great! Can we start with your names?”

“I’m Ashe. This is Lyra, and that’s Oliver.” Ashe pointed at his siblings as he said their names.

Dorothea waved. “It’s nice to meet you. Are you still hungry?”

At that, Oliver spoke up as much as he could with a fresh mouthful of cranberries. “Yeah.”

“I’ll be right back with something to eat.” Dorothea sprang to her feet and walked out of the alley.

“She’s weird,” Lyra huffed, moving to sit next to Ashe.

“But we need help.” Ashe reached over and brushed some dust off of Lyra’s pants.

Dorothea appeared around the corner. Several items were nestled into her arms. She let everything drop to the ground after she walked up to where Ashe and Lyra sat. Scanning the pile, Ashe recognized a bag of jerky, two pears, and a full waterskin.

“While you eat, would you like me to start teaching you?” Dorothea sat down but didn’t move to grab any of the things she’d brought.

“Sure,” Ashe offered a slight smile as he divvied up the food.

Passing back the pears for them, Ashe took a sip from the waterskin and grabbed a piece of jerky. Taking a ravenous bite, Ashe felt the sharp edge of hunger that had plagued him all day soften. Maybe trusting Dorothea would be good. Taking another bite, Ashe shifted to get comfortable. He wanted to remember everything Dorothea was about to share with him.

* * *

**7th of the Harpstring Moon, 1172**

Ashe paced around the alleyway, wondering what was taking Dorothea so long. She was never gone this long to take baths. Had she gotten lost? Did someone catch her for all her theft? Ashe started to nibble on his nails, worry squirming into his gut. Lyra and Oliver were fussing, too. Lyra was rocking back and forth on her feet. Oliver was wiggling where he sat cross-legged in the dirt, picking at the blades of grass that had the misfortune of being in his vicinity.

They all jumped to attention when they heard footsteps running closer. Dorothea appeared around the corner, a grin stretched from ear to ear. She was huffing like she’d run, but she didn’t look upset. Ashe walked over and hugged her in relief.

“Oh, Ashe, I have great news!” Dorothea cheered, almost singing with joy.

“What is it?” Lyra chimed in first.

“A nobleman heard me singing by the fountain, and he works at the opera house! He thought my singing was nice, so he invited me to audition for the opera this evening!” Dorothea wiggled in Ashe’s arms as she spoke.

“That’s amazing!” Ashe smiled, but his expression faltered. “Um, thank you for all of your help, Dorothea.”

Dorothea gave Ashe’s arm a light smack. “I’m not going anywhere! If I get a part, it’ll be to help all of us.”

Ashe felt his body loosen. Joy filled where the tension had been, and Ashe shuffled over to ruffle Oliver’s smoky gray hair. Oliver laughed, taking cues from his siblings about the situation. Lyra took a turn hugging Dorothea, her pale silver hair looking white next to Dorothea’s darker hue. Then, she sprang away with a gasp.

“What are you going to wear?”

At that, Dorothea paused in thought. She tilted her head and tapped a foot on the ground for a moment before settling back down and shrugging. “I have no idea. Maybe I should try and find something…”

Lyra nodded enthusiastically. Ashe sighed, eyeing Dorothea warily. Stealing clothes was harder than stealing food. Patting Oliver’s head once, Ashe took a few steps towards where Lyra and Dorothea stood.

“Be careful!” Ashe squeaked through the concern growing in his gut.

Dorothea’s face softened when she turned her attention to Ashe. “Of course, I wouldn’t leave you for anything in the world.”

Ashe’s face turned red after he processed her soft words. Dorothea offered a wave before she set off again, making the most of the few hours she had to search. Ashe watched her go, curious how good her singing was. He wasn’t sure he’d heard it yet.

Settling back down, Ashe played tic tac toe and chatted idly with Lyra. Oliver cleared the ground with a brief dance over the dirt between rounds, and it was the most fun Ashe could remember having since leaving Faerghus. Several games, jokes, and dances later, Dorothea returned with a new dress that made Ashe turn red all over again.

The dress fell to her knees, loose and light, with long sleeves. It was dark red with gold accents and black lace. It looked pretty, especially right after seeing Dorothea in her stained and torn shirt and pants. She looked shy in it, but happy at the same time.

“Well, how is it?”

“It looks great!”

“You’re so pretty!”

“Wow!”

All three of the Uberts jumped at the opportunity to reassure Dorothea. It was her turn to blush, doing a little twirl and pose to distract from it. Everyone giggled before settling down, Dorothea walking a few more steps inside to hide.

“I’m not sure when I should go,” Dorothea sighed, looking up at the sky.

“Can you be early?” Ashe fidgeted with the front of his shirt, nervous for Dorothea.

She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but that’s better than missing it. I guess I’ll start walking.”

Dorothea took a moment to hug everyone before setting out. They were all getting tense, but nothing could be done about it. Instead, they all wished Dorothea good luck as she strode out into the street. She held her head high, a giddy smile on her face as she disappeared among strangers.

“She’s nice,” Oliver announced with a clap of his hands.

Lyra smiled and flopped down to sit next to Oliver. “That’s right, Ollie.” Lyra turned and looked at Ashe, expression heavier. “Are we going to be okay now?”

Ashe sat down to face his siblings, his smile slight but steady. “I think so.”

“I miss mommy ‘n daddy,” Oliver cut into the brief silence with a wobbling voice.

“I miss them too,” Ashe whispered, feeling something sharp in his stomach as he thought about his parents.

Lyra shocked Ashe and Oliver with a quiet sob. Her brothers snuggled up to her, clinging together into a pile of silver hair and freckled skin. Lyra’s body shook again, quiet but unmistakable. Ashe swallowed his urge to cry when he noticed Oliver’s cheeks grow wet.

“They’re okay, I know it.” Ashe pulled his siblings closer. “We still have each other, too.”

“We’ve gotta stick together,” Lyra said, voice tight with tears.

Oliver only nodded in agreement. Tears were still crawling down his cheeks. Lyra wiped hers as they untangled from each other, staying close but not so desperate. Then, Ashe had an idea to cheer them all up.

“Wanna draw in the dirt and then dance over it?”

Without response, Lyra and Oliver both set about doodling in the dirt. Lyra drew flowers, the same ones on the trees around them. The same ones Ashe remembered when he saw the grave. Dismissing the thought with a shake of his head, Ashe looked over to see Oliver outlining animals. Moving around to give them both room, Ashe focused on drawing foods.

The coarse dirt was soothing. It was a familiar scratch and an action he’d done so many times. Sharing the moment with Lyra and Oliver was even better. With the task to distract them, the evening gave way to dusk and then to night. Just when Ashe’s thoughts drifted back to Dorothea, she appeared around the corner, crying.

“‘Thea!” Oliver jumped up first, running towards her with a goofy smile.

“I got it! I got a part!” Dorothea sobbed, kneeling down and pulling Oliver into her arms.

Lyra squealed and ran over, joining the hug. Ashe felt frozen. Dorothea had the part. She was okay. They were okay. When Dorothea and Lyra beckoned with their hands for him to come join them, Ashe broke out of his daze and flung himself into them. It was the most secure he’d felt in weeks. He realized that when he felt a tear slip down his face.

“Oh, Ashe, it’s alright!” Dorothea soothed, rocking everyone side to side.

“I know. I’m happy,” Ashe answered.

Lyra twisted around and looked at the ground as a mischievous smile spread over her face. “Let’s dance away our drawings?”

“Let’s!” Dorothea laughed as she opened her arms, setting everyone free.

Stomping over their doodles, the four of them laughed and cried. They kicked up the ground and twirled as they jumped, free and more at ease than they’d been in far too long. When Dorothea started singing, Ashe felt even lighter than before.

Her voice was pretty. No wonder people wanted her to sing. Stopping, Ashe watched Dorothea and his siblings. Sighing, Ashe looked down at their bags, worn thin and dusty. Maybe after a few months, they could get new bags to put things into. Tearing his eyes away, Ashe resumed watching Dorothea.

When Dorothea noticed Ashe’s gaze, she stopped dancing. Offering a slight smile and tossing her hair over her shoulder, she gazed back. Green met green, steady and sure under the dim light of a half-moon. Ashe felt something change in his gut, like a rope breaking or thunder cracking.

Sharing a moment with Dorothea, surrounded by his siblings’ laughter and dancing, he knew they’d be okay.

* * *

**30th of the Blue Sea Moon, 1176**

Ashe woke up with sunlight dancing over his eyes. He rolled in his bed and groaned, seeking a few more moments of peace before his day began. He could hear Lyra and Oliver playing in the common room. They’d need breakfast soon, and Dorothea would be at rehearsal all day, so that responsibility would fall to him. He’d also need to prepare lunch for them to have while he went to work.

After far too little time to feel content and recharged, Ashe got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head with a yawn. He pulled on his gray work shirt and a fresh pair of thin green pants. Walking out into the common room, Ashe paused as Lyra and Oliver looked over from the board game they were wrapped up in.

“Good morning!” Oliver chirped, clutching a pair of dice in his hands.

“Hello, Ollie. Is Lyra being nice to you?” Ashe eyed his sister and the board game that was probably a little too difficult for Oliver to play well.

“Of course I am,” Lyra huffed, smiling softly as she drew a card from a stack on the board.

Ashe just smiled and left them to their game, walking to the kitchen. A small fire was already lit in the pit. It was too lively to have been left by Dorothea, who would’ve set out hours ago. After a brief moment of worry that Oliver had tried to light it, Ashe remembered that he’d asked Lyra to start it before they began to play for the morning.

“Thank you for the fire,” Ashe called, voice carrying through the thin walls of the house.

“Of course!” Lyra called back, her voice just as strong.

With a grin, Ashe pulled three wooden bowls from the cabinet and set them down. He also grabbed a metal watering can, which he filled with water from their barrel of well water and hung over the fire to boil. Next, he opened the barrel next to the water. Using the metal can sitting inside, Ashe measured three portions of oatmeal. He grabbed a pinch of sugar from a glass bowl on the counter to sprinkle on top of each portion.

By the time the portions were made, the water was heated to a rolling boil. Ashe wrapped his hand in a strip of cloth and grabbed the handle, moving quickly to fill each bowl. Ashe left the extra water in the can to cool on top of the counter, watching the steam rolling off of each bowl. That would take a while to be edible, given the muggy summer heat, so it was time to move on to lunch.

Ashe unwrapped a loaf of bread and tore it in half. With each half, there was one handful of berries and a few chunks of rabbit jerky. Ashe wrapped each portion up and set them on the dining table, where they’d be within easy reach of Lyra and Oliver. This time, when he grabbed the bowls of oatmeal, they were pleasantly warm and ready to eat. Sticking spoons into each one, Ashe rejoined his siblings over their game.

“Oatmeal again?” Oliver whined, taking his bowl with a pout.

“I know. It’s almost Saturday, so we can have eggs soon!” Ashe offered, smiling.

“Okay, can we have bacon again, too?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll ask.”

Ashe started shoveling his oatmeal down, eager to get to work. He would be working in the marketplace again, as he had for the past few months, selling the goods of a family of farmers, the Liettas, in exchange for spare food and a few coins every week. Lyra and Oliver ate with less vigor, but no more complaints. Ashe jumped up and cleaned his bowl as soon as he could, putting it away and then slipping his leather shoes on.

“Will you be back in time for dinner or should I plan to cook?” Lyra looked up and muttered around a mouthful of oats.

Ashe shook his head. “I’ll be back to cook. Dorothea should be home by then, too.”

With that, Ashe saw himself out. The walk to the market was short, and work came on fast. Today was the first day they had many of the early summer harvests available, so there was scarcely a quiet moment at the table. In the flurry, the day blew by. Ashe felt worn to threads by the time he stumbled back through the door. He was met with something that smelled far too delicious to be the vegetable stew they had the ingredients for.

“Oh, you’re back just in time!” Dorothea appeared around the corner, hair down and donning her nightgown. “I’m making freshly roasted rabbit with potatoes!”

Ashe’s jaw dropped. “Dorothea, we can’t afford that!”

“We can! Someone gave me a necklace as a gift on my way home, and when I sold it, I got 250 gold coins! So, I got a special meal to celebrate my new nickname, the ‘Mythical Songstress.’” Dorothea was bouncing with excitement while she spoke, her face pink.

“O-oh wow… Dorothea, I...” Ashe could do little more than mumble and stare, feeling faint as he processed the extra money they didn’t expect to get and the tidbit of information about Dorothea’s rising status.

Lyra and Oliver skipped over and hugged Ashe, and he rested his hands on their backs to hold them close. Dorothea giggled and skipped back into the kitchen, flashing Ashe a playful wink. She was practically glowing, growing brighter with every day she got to hone her skills. That she was kind enough to share her fortune with them was nothing short of astounding. About four years after they’d first met, after all of their work scraping by and at the opera and in the market, Ashe finally felt like they were okay.

* * *

**6th of the Wyvern Moon, 1178**

It was two years into Dorothea’s opera career when Ashe realized he loved her. She’d gotten an unexpected night off, which was spent over a bowl of vegetable stew in the common room. It was a chilly night under a thin dusting of snow, so they had set up a temporary fire pit to keep them warm.

“Dorothea,” Lyra muttered as she scribbled on a piece of parchment, “do you know how to read music?”

“I do, why?” Dorothea set her empty bowl down and sat down next to Lyra.

“Well, I want to try and write a song about us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. Us,” she gestured around the room, “our family.”

“Can I help?” Oliver asked, just before shoving his spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“I could teach you two, together, and you could write the song as we learn. How does that sound?” Dorothea looked between the siblings with a grin.

They both vocalized some form of agreement and excitement, prompting Dorothea to focus on Ashe. “Would you like to join?”

Ashe shook his head, wearing a sad smile. “I don’t think I’ll have time with work to keep me busy.”

Dorothea’s face fell for a split second before she returned to talking with Lyra and Oliver, but Ashe saw the change. He felt bad for rejecting her offer to teach him a new skill. Though what he said was true, could he have been more gentle about it? Not that he could change what he’d said now. Gathering up everyone’s dirty dishes, Ashe went about cleaning them in the kitchen.

He could hear Dorothea talking to his siblings in the other room, occasionally singing a note or two. It sounded beautiful, even when his siblings attempted to join in with their ill-trained voices. With the welcome distraction, Ashe took much longer than he needed to wash and put away the dishes. By the time he returned to the common room, the first lesson was over. They were all laughing, sitting in a tight circle on the floor.

Oliver’s laughter stopped as he yawned, covering his face with a hand to hide it, but Ashe caught the action anyway. “Is it time for bed?”

Oliver nodded and stood, but he lingered. Ashe and Oliver’s gazes turned to Lyra, who had her focus on the music in front of her. It wasn’t until Ashe cleared his throat that she was prompted to answer.

“Not yet, I want to write another line,” Lyra said over the scratch of her quill.

“It’s best to write music in small doses, Lyra. You need to appreciate each section before moving on to the next one.” Dorothea gently took the parchment and quill out of Lyra’s hands.

Lyra looked thoughtfully at Dorothea and nodded. She rose to stand next to Oliver, dusting her pants off. Brief goodnights were exchanged as Lyra and Oliver headed to their separate rooms, doors closing behind them to give privacy as they settled in for the night.

“They’re so wonderful. I’m glad to see them be able to be young.”

Ashe looked at Dorothea with surprise, which only deepened at the unreadable expression on her face. “What do you mean?”

Dorothea laughed. “You’ve all been through so much. I’ve heard enough bits and pieces to put the story together. I just wish you’d had the opportunity to be young, too.”

Ashe wished for the same, but he knew it was pointless to long for something he could never have. Dorothea must have picked up on the pain Ashe carried because she leaned over and wrapped him into a hug. It was so warm, fighting away the chilly winter air, and it made Ashe feel safe.

Ashe wanted to protest when Dorothea pulled away from him. The words he was forming dissipated when she rested a soft hand against his cheek. Her thumb traced his cheekbone, delicate and affectionate. He couldn’t shake the sounds of her doting on his siblings from his head, couldn’t stop being thankful that she treasured them the same way he did. Ashe realized he desperately wanted to kiss her.

“Go ahead, I’m thinking the same thing,” Dorothea teased, leaning much closer than was necessary.

Ashe met her in the middle. He moved his hands up to hold Dorothea, one resting on her shoulder and the other holding her cheek. Dorothea placed her other hand on top of Ashe’s knee. Everything felt clumsy and awkward, but Ashe’s heart pounded in his chest nonetheless. Contrasting the thud of his pulse, butterflies fluttered in Ashe’s stomach.

They kissed until their lungs burned and their lips ached. When they finally separated, Ashe admired Dorothea’s flushed face and felt that his own was in the same state. Even with their lips separated, Ashe didn’t let go of Dorothea. He needed to hold her, to exist in the moment as long as possible. The stillness of her hands suggested that she echoed that need.

“I’m so happy to have you in my life,” Dorothea breathed, touching her forehead against Ashe’s while she let her eyes close.

“I don’t know where we’d be without you. Thank you, for everything.” Ashe pecked Dorothea on the lips again.

Dorothea shook her head. “The same goes for me, you know. But we’re here now, and I’m happy.”

“I’m happy, too.”

They sat there for a few seconds in the quiet, enjoying the feeling of being held. Ashe wanted to linger there forever, belly full and body warm with the woman he was quickly learning he loved. His feelings seemed to be returned, something he’d never dared hope could happen. Possessed to make the most of the moment, Ashe pulled Dorothea in for another kiss.

“Finally!”

Ashe and Dorothea leaped apart, whipping their heads around to see Lyra dancing in the doorway to her room. Dorothea started laughing, but Ashe was too mortified to join in. Tugging his clothes straight, he willed his face to stop being red.

“What are you still doing awake?” he asked, voice cracking.

“I came out to get a glass of water. Didn’t mean to walk in on the new couple.” Lyra literally skipped to the kitchen, leaving Ashe and Dorothea to calm down for a second before she reemerged with a glass of water.

“You have your water now, so get some rest.” Dorothea was gentle but firm, getting to her feet and offering her hand to Ashe.

Ashe took her hand and rose as Lyra giggled and slammed the door to her room shut. Ashe exhaled and let his shoulders slump. Too many things happened tonight for him to keep up with. Dorothea, always understanding, gave his hand a squeeze and walked to her room.

With nothing else to do and no one to fuss over, Ashe did the same. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, taking deep breaths and counting. With every breath, his mind untangled more of his feelings. After his tenth breath, Ashe felt butterflies in his stomach and a smile splitting his face. He felt wonderful, falling into bed fully clothed. He bundled up in the blankets and let himself drift, the feeling of Dorothea’s lips following him into his dreams.

* * *

**22nd of the Garland Moon 1180**

Ashe tapped his feet on the wooden floor of the common room, anxious about Dorothea’s unusually late return from a performance. She was consistent about her returns, never wanting to cause worry over her wellbeing if it could be avoided. Ashe was just beginning to contemplate going out to look when the door eased open, Dorothea slipping inside a moment later. Her face was tense, and it only grew tighter when she looked at Ashe.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ashe whispered, getting up from his chair to approach Dorothea.

Rather than answer, she leaned forward and kissed him. There was an edge of desperation to it that made the hair on the back of Ashe’s neck stand up. He returned the kiss gently, placing his hands on her arms to offer comfort. When they broke apart for air, Dorothea rested her forehead on Ashe’s shoulder and let go of a shaky sigh.

“Word has gotten out about us, our relationship. It’s hurting ticket sales, and has been for a few weeks.”

“What? That’s absurd, I–”

“Is it? We both know I’m up there because of my looks as much as my voice. If I’m no longer an object to try and obtain, of course there will be people who don’t want to come watch me anymore,” Dorothea spat, bitter and frustrated.

Ashe cooed soothingly and moved his hands to rub circles on Dorothea’s back. She melted into the touch, her breathing deepened as she calmed down. Ashe wasn’t sure what more to say, his own anger heating up under the skin. He knew Dorothea was renowned for her beauty, but he didn’t realize just how much of a part that was of her career.

“It’s going to be okay, ‘Thea. I’m sure it’s just a temporary dip,” Ashe reasoned, hoping it was just the surprise at the news causing this downswing.

“I hope so,” she paused to sob, “because the house manager said they’ll have to let me go if this trend keeps up.”

Ashe’s blood heated to a boil, his hands stopping on Dorothea’s back. “What?”

Dorothea sobbed quietly again. “I know. I’m angry, too. But that’s the way the industry works.”

Ashe exhaled, letting some of his anger escape with the air. They could figure this out. They’d figured out so much already, this was just the next hurdle they needed to face. Letting go of Dorothea, Ashe stepped away. She gave him a puzzled look.

“It’s okay. You know what we’ll do? We’ll start saving. The opera is set to run until the end of the fall, right?”

“Yes, until the end of the Wyvern Moon.”

“So they can’t fire you until then. That gives us almost half a year to stockpile and get ready.” Ashe felt more at ease the more he thought through how to make use of the next few months.

Dorothea took a moment to process Ashe’s plan before her face relaxed. “That isn’t a bad idea. I’ll save what I can from the opera, you save what you can from the market. But where will we go after? We won’t be able to live here, since the opera company owns the house…”

“I don’t know, but we have time to worry about that later. I can ask the Liettas for ideas if we need them. For now, let’s just start saving. And get to bed, since it’s late. Okay?” Ashe smiled and kissed Dorothea’s forehead.

Dorothea nodded in agreement, grabbing one of Ashe’s hands with her own to walk to their bedroom. The moonlight creeping in through the windows was beautiful, casting shadows of lush branches with blooming flowers onto the walls and floor. When Ashe turned towards Dorothea to ask her if she needed to brush up, he stopped in his tracks.

She looked gorgeous. The damp trails down her cheeks caught the light, making her seem ethereal. Her hair was almost copper in the pale light, cascading down her shoulders in loose waves. When she turned to gaze at him, the smile she wore made Ashe’s heart skip a beat.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, eyes scanning over Ashe’s face.

“I love you,” he whispered, unthinking.

When Ashe realized what he said, his eyes widened. How could he do this? Dumping this on her right after her stressful evening at work was a terrible idea. He opened his mouth to try and stammer out an apology, an explanation,  _ something _ , but Dorothea silenced him with a finger over his lips.

She giggled, then laughed, and it was the most carefree sound Ashe had heard in days. He was too stunned to join in, but he didn’t have to. He instead got a kiss, almost nonexistent through her smile, but Ashe dissolved right into it. She pulled him closer and softened her smile enough to kiss properly. When she pulled away after a moment, Ashe felt like he could float away.

“I love you too,” she whispered, voice steeped with confidence.

Ashe sighed in relief as Dorothea stepped away and settled onto the bed. She held her arms open, face pink and eyes tracing the shadows in the room. Ashe heeded her request and crawled into bed next to her, settling into her arms as he pulled a blanket over them.

“Thank you for waiting for me to get home,” Dorothea muttered.

Ashe shifted to look at Dorothea and smiled. “Of course. I’ll always wait for you.”

Dorothea just hummed and wiggled closer, burying her face in Ashe’s hair. Ashe reveled in being held, feeling secure in knowing that he would have his family no matter what challenges came their way.

* * *

**3rd of the Red Wolf Moon, 1180**

When the door clicked shut, after letting a swirl of snow into the house to settle on the dark hardwood, all eyes landed on Dorothea. She looked worn, face fallen and all of her belongings from the opera house stuffed into a bag. Her hair was blown into a mess, makeup smudged from what seemed like tears on the walk home. There had been no celebration for the final show of the season. The falling of the curtain meant the end of a dream for Dorothea.

While Ashe would forever be thankful she chose to stay with him, a part of him knew just how much she had sacrificed to keep them together. It was guilt he’d carry with him forever, though it would push him to do the best he could for her. It was not the first time he’d channeled guilt into action, and he suspected it wouldn’t be the last.

“Come warm up by the fire. We’ll leave for the farm in the morning, okay?” Lyra spoke softly as she guided Dorothea to the flames in the kitchen.

“Are you all packed?” Dorothea looked around the room, a conflicted expression pulling her features in strange ways.

“We are, and the Liettas said they left the supplies we’ll need in a shed next to the house. They’re going to come by after a few days to see how we’re settling in,” Ashe explained, walking over and pulling Dorothea against his chest.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Oliver walked over and wiggled Dorothea’s bag free from her arm. He gave her arm a squeeze before walking away, setting her bag down on top of the several others they had crammed their lives into. The sound of metal against metal emanated from the bag, Dorothea’s last paycheck from the company inside.

“I’d like to go to bed,” Dorothea whispered, voice even more brittle.

“Of course, I’ll be in soon.” Ashe kissed Dorothea’s head before letting her go.

After giving Dorothea time to disappear behind the bedroom door, Ashe sighed and let his head hang, chin against his chest. He let his eyes slip closed, fighting back tears he didn’t want anyone to see. He just needed to hold out a little bit longer.

When a rough hand clapped him on the shoulder, Ashe jumped. His eyes flew open to find Oliver standing in front of him. A rogue tear escaped Ashe’s eye, carving a line down his cheek that burned with shame.

“We all know what we’re getting into. We’ll be fine.” Oliver’s voice was level, and Ashe wondered when he missed his little brother growing up.

Lyra appeared next to Oliver, expression somber but determined, her lips pressed thin. “You’re allowed to cry, you know. You’ve been strong for almost ten years, it has to break at some point.”

Ashe shifted his eyes between his siblings a few times and found their expressions stable, their arms unoccupied and seemingly ready to pull him in at a second’s notice. A tiny smile from Lyra made something in Ashe’s chest crumble. Throwing himself into Lyra and Oliver’s arm, a sob ripped free from Ashe’s throat. It was beyond him to stop his emotions now.

Ashe’s body shook with the force of his tears, a decade of pent up emotion bursting forth. Sorrow, vexation, despondency, unease, and longing tore him apart, exposing all the vulnerability he had buried to protect the ones he loved. Shame attempted to prickle at his spine, but it was overtaken by a conscious recognition that a moment like this was inevitable. It was all he could do to appreciate his siblings’ support while it happened.

After what felt like a decade of sobbing into Lyra and Oliver’s shoulders, Ashe’s eyes began to dry. His sobs faded to whimpers and sniffles as he felt hands drawing soothing circles on his back. They felt like the entire world for a beautiful moment before a hinge creaking brought him back into the cold house.

“Is everything oka–Ashe!” Dorothea’s voice snapped from groggy confusion to sharp alarm as she floated across the room.

Lyra leaned back and whispered something to Dorothea that Ashe couldn’t hear. Whatever Lyra said, Ashe looked up a few moments later to find Dorothea looking at him with awe and worry instead of pity. She leaned in closer to look at him while his siblings continued their comforting touches.

“You can let everything go, Ashe. We’re moving on to something new. You don’t have to force yourself to be tough anymore.” She cupped one of Ashe’s cheeks with her hand, and he leaned into the touch.

When it finally felt like he wasn’t vibrating anymore, Ashe felt like he was made of lead. Every drop of energy had poured from his body, leaving him an exhausted husk. With nothing more than affectionate coos and soothing hums, he was guided to bed. After getting hugs and kisses from Lyra and Oliver, Ashe was left nestled in blankets beside Dorothea.

“This is perhaps low on your list of thoughts at the moment, but I promise you that I would not have made the choices I did if I didn’t believe with all of my mind and soul that they were right.”

Ashe turned his head to look at Dorothea. She looked at peace, with love helping her eyes and smile soften. She looked nothing like the woman that had walked in the door an hour ago. Her resilience lit a spark in Ashe that pushed a minuscule smile onto his face. Dorothea caught the change and laughed in relief.

“Sleep, Ashe. I’m sure it’ll be the best rest you’ve gotten in years.”

Ashe did not need to be told twice. Eyes fluttering shut, Ashe exhaled and sunk into the mattress. The blankets warmed quickly against his skin, balancing the cold winter breeze slipping through the walls to cross his face. He listened to Dorothea’s breathing for only a moment before sleep took him, offering a reprieve from the long day he had endured.

* * *

**4th of the Red Wolf Moon, 1180**

When Ashe woke up to the smell of smoke and toasted bread, he felt like a new person. Though his abs ached from his intense crying the night before, he felt more clear and sound of mind than he’d been in far too long. Straightening his clothes and running a hand through his hair, Ashe emerged from the bedroom to find his family sitting together and eating.

“There you are! Your breakfast is almost done, Lyra made it last so you could sleep in,” Oliver mumbled around a mouthful of cranberries.

“Oh no! I need to go check on it!” Lyra leaped up and dashed into the kitchen.

Dorothea chuckled, eyes scanning over Ashe. “How do you feel?”

Ashe couldn’t resist smiling. “Great. Ready to eat and head out.”

“Well,” Lyra said as she skipped out of the kitchen and dropped a hefty portion of toast into Ashe’s hands, “we need to do those things together. There’s a cart waiting outside with our stuff packed into it.”

Ashe gawked. “You didn’t wake me up to pack?”

Dorothea, Lyra, and Oliver shook their heads in unison. Ashe sighed, even as gratitude settled in his gut. Unwilling to waste another second, Ashe tore off a bite of toast and headed for the door. Sure enough, a cart with a sleepy horse attached to it waited in front of the house. An older gentleman sat on the front of the cart, equipped to steer the horse.

“Mornin’, young man! Are we ready then?” The man called out, looking into the house.

When the trio emerged, Ashe had already plopped down amidst their bags in the back. Everyone piled in, Dorothea settling in last after she’d given the cart driver his promised coins. The man called back a warning as he prompted the horse into action, jolting the cart to a steady roll. Ashe watched the house slowly vanish, memories of the years spent inside rattling inside his mind.

When the house was finally gone from view, Ashe sighed. He shifted his gaze to the horizon, where a new home awaited them. It was modest, he knew, and in dire need of fixing up. Knowing he’d be working alongside Dorothea and his siblings to make the abandoned building into a home excited Ashe. With no foreseeable threats to the abandoned land the Liettas so kindly pointed them towards on the outskirts of Enbarr, Ashe bursted with confidence regarding the future they’d get to build.

* * *

**18th of the Guardian Moon, 1180**

Two months of tireless work later and the abandoned house and overgrown plot of land were on the cusp of being a working farm. The house was cozy and secure, surrounded by weed-free tilled earth that was ready to be seeded with spinach and potatoes. A corral attached to the house–which they’d built entirely on their own–held their pair of cows. A restored chicken coop was on the other side of the house, several hens clucking inside.

Ashe had several pounds of hay in his arms, ready to toss to the cows, when Oliver poked his head out of the front door. “Dinner’s ready!”

“Thank you!” Ashe hollered, making haste towards the corral.

The light brown cow, Isabelle, offered a loud moo as she walked towards Ashe. The black and white one, Makarya, simply stared from a distance. Ashe threw the hay over the fence a few feet from the water trough. Knowing Makarya wouldn’t eat until he left, Ashe blew them each a kiss and headed towards the house.

When he walked inside, he was greeted with scrambled eggs and a salad. The table was set for everyone, and seats filled as soon as Ashe was in the dining room. Lyra’s fingers were covered with pricks from her latest sewing project, while Oliver’s were calloused from woodworking. Dorothea’s were smooth but a touch dry from hours spent working in the kitchen prepping food and in the yard doing laundry.

“Dig in!” Dorothea chirped, sitting next to Ashe at the table.

Everyone leaped to eating as soon as the invitation was given. After a long day of work getting the last of the field prepared, they were ready to plant their first crops. Ashe intended for them all to plant a few of them, a moment of self-indulgent symbolism of them planting their future together. That would come in the morning. For now, Ashe had a meal to enjoy and an evening of reading books aloud by the fire to appreciate.

* * *

**24th of the Blue Sea Moon, 1183**

Ashe would never forget the first time Dorothea helped him get ready for the market after they’d gotten the farm in order. For all her glamorous looks and previous career as an opera star, she was as willing as anyone could be to get her hands dirty. She repaired baskets, bunched and sorted through their goods, and even woke up early to do one last milking and collect last-minute eggs. When she’d walked in with dirt under her nails, exertion flushed cheeks, and a piece of straw in her hair, Ashe thought it was one of her best looks. Her beaming smile suggested that she felt the same.

Now, three years later, they’d fallen into a wonderful routine that had them as one of the first families set up at the market on Saturdays. Oliver milked the cows and hitched up the carthorse–who all apparently adored him–while Lyra collected eggs. Ashe sorted everything into units to sell, and Dorothea checked over their baskets, price tags, and change purse. It was an easy rhythm, putting everyone in high spirits as they packed up to go to town.

“Hey there, Molly,” Ashe muttered, setting his crate down in the cart before walking up to pet the horse’s nose.

Molly answered with a soft exhale, sleepy eyes blinking slowly at Ashe. He gave her a quick scratch on the head before returning to the cart, where he helped his family load their remaining things. The work went quickly, as did the ride into town. Small talk about goals for the day and Molly’s quick step made the change from rural area to city a blur.

Pulling up to their designated area, they each set about unloading and setting the parts of the shop they ran. Ashe handled most of the produce, Lyra handled eggs and whatever produce Ashe needed help with, and Oliver was in charge of the dairy. Dorothea made change and pulled things off the cart as needed to keep the table full. This dance eased them through most of the day, as it often did, until a young man approached their table that captured Ashe’s attention.

The man had short brown hair with eyes to match. His clothes were remarkably average, a bit too clean for a farmer or beggar but not clean enough for a shopkeeper or servant. His wide shoulders suggested some form of physical labor, but nothing else stood out. Well, aside from the awestruck and longing expression he directed at Dorothea.

“E-excuse me, but are you Dorothea Arnault? Like,  _ the _ Dorothea?” The man was standing at the end of the tables, almost behind them where the family was working.

Ashe watched from the corner of his eye as Dorothea whirled around to face the man with a practiced smile. “Oh! Yes, I suppose I am. Can I help you?”

The man stepped closer, now fully behind the table and looking Dorothea up and down with disbelief. “I have always wanted to meet you. My name’s Breht. You were always so lovely on stage, but…” the man inched closer, setting Ashe on edge, “you’re even more captivating up close.”

Dorothea inched away but kept her voice even. “Thank you, but please step around to the other side of the table.”

“Will you ever make a comeback?” Breht pried as he walked back to the side of the table he should’ve stayed on.

Dorothea laughed and shook her head. “No, I’m not planning on it. My days on the stage are very much over.”

“But you were so wonderful! Why miss out on all your beautiful years doing this?” Breht gestured at the farm products on the table.

“Excuse me?” Dorothea sounded affronted, so Ashe waved Lyra over to take over his part of the table while he approached his lover.

“Sorry, that was out of hand. But, if a return to the stage isn’t in the cards for you, maybe a dinner date could be?” Breht smiled in a way that was likely meant to be charming, but it just made Ashe want to punch him.

“No. She’s not interested,” Ashe said, smiling and pecking Dorothea on the cheek.

“I’m afraid he’s right. I’m flattered, but taken.” Dorothea leaned closer against Ashe.

Breht scanned Ashe with a slow and judgemental gaze, frowning. When his gaze came too far and met Ashe’s, Ashe couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow in challenge. It would be foolish to pick a fight in the market, so there was little Breht could do to articulate his criticism aside from words and looks.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you get the  _ very best  _ out of this,” Breht scoffed and jerked his head towards the table again before he turned away and stomped off.

“Wow, I’ve never seen you act quite like that before,” Oliver teased from a few feet up the table.

Ashe flushed red, the tension in his muscles melting away now that the stranger was gone. Dorothea giggled and pecked him on the lips again. Ashe’s face turned even deeper red at Lyra’s cheer and Oliver’s low whistle. Turning to shoot them both stern looks, Ashe found a smile breaking through his attempt to be stern.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever done that before, but he seemed persistent…” Ashe rubbed the back of his neck with embarrassment as he turned to Dorothea. “Sorry for, uh, speaking for you like that.”

Dorothea snorted. “Honey, it was adorable that you stepped in and got so firm!”

“O-oh.” Ashe didn’t expect that reaction, but he welcomed it nonetheless.

“While you lovebirds chat about your encounter, I’m gonna start packing up to go home. Ollie, can you help?” Lyra started putting leftover eggs and vegetables into crates as she glanced at Oliver.

Oliver was already packing the dairy again, blasting each bottle with a weak ice spell he’d picked up to keep them fresh. The pair started to hum a song as they packed. It was an old lullaby Ashe had taught them, years ago on a night when Oliver was inconsolable about not getting to know their parents. Ashe offered him what scraps he could, describing their parents’ appearances and personalities. How Lyra’s pale hair was like their father’s while Oliver got his hazel eyes from mom. The lullaby stuck more than anything else, and they’d sung it together ever since.

Dorothea had picked up on it, too. Within minutes, all of them were humming the song in unison. The smack of wood against wood as crates were loaded into the carriage punctuated the melody, and the power of the group dipped for the brief moment it took Oliver to get the horse from the stables. When they were a full group again, there was just enough of the lullaby left for them to load into the cart.

“What a day,” Lyra sighed, stretching as much as she could without kicking things.

“No kidding! Could you believe that guy? It’s been three years already, why would I just decide to go back?” Dorothea laughed.

Ashe chuckled with her and exhaled into content silence and Dorothea and Lyra continued to poke fun at the strange interaction. Oliver needed to focus on driving the cart, so Ashe settled into silence. He watched Dorothea’s animated conversation with a soft smile. Seeing her so happy with what they’d built, while sharing it with his beloved siblings, was satisfying in a way Ashe wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. Turning to look at the blazing sunset, Ashe melted into his seat.

* * *

**27th of the Lone Moon, 1185**

Ashe danced with glee as Oliver leaped from the cart with a wiggling ball of fluff in his arms. Running outside to meet him halfway, Ashe took the puppy from his brother’s arms. The puppy barked and licked Ashe’s face, a puff of cream-colored hair rubbing off on Ashe’s shirt. Laughing and lowering the dog out of face licking range, Ashe gave a nod of gratitude to Oliver.

“Thank you, Ollie, I owe you one.”

Oliver shrugged and smiled. “You did make me wait five years for a farm dog, but I can forgive that. This is a good reason to have one now.”

“Did you want to name…” Ashe trailed off, unsure if the dog was a boy or girl.

“I figured Dorothea could name him,” Oliver said, emphasizing the last word.

Ashe was about to say thank you again when he was interrupted by Lyra shouting from the house. “Get in here! She’ll be home soon!”

Ashe startled at Lyra’s booming voice, but he snapped out of his surprise and hustled back to the house as best he could without jostling the dog. As big as the puppy was, being a Pyrenees, he was content to be carried. His tongue poked out of the end of his mouth as his ears stood up, taking in his new environment.

When Ashe set the dog down inside, he immediately ran over to investigate Lyra. Perfect. His interest made it easy for her to tie a silver and gold ribbon around the puppy’s neck. When she held her hand out at Ashe, he shot her a puzzled look.

“Ashe…” she deadpanned.

“O-oh! Of course,” Ashe chuckled nervously and ran to his room.

Digging through his dresser, Ashe froze when he found what he was looking for. A moment of paralyzing doubt flooded Ashe’s system as he fussed over if he was about to make a fool of himself, but it all shattered when he allowed himself a second to breathe. Jewelry and paper in hand, Ashe straightened himself up. Brushing off as much of the dog hair on his shirt as he could, Ashe walked back to the living room and gave Lyra the last pieces she needed to set their plan into motion. They were tied to the ribbon not a second too soon as Oliver gave the signal to communicate Dorothea’s return from town.

“Oh, Goddess…” Ashe swayed on his feet, eyes closed as he fought to balance himself.

Lyra set a light hand on Ashe’s shoulder. “It’s going to be perfect, Ashe. I promise.”

Ashe looked over at his sister, her unshakable smile and confident posture reassuring in an indescribable way. A small piece of Ashe’s brain wanted to reflect on how much she’d grown into her own, but he filed that sappy, brotherly pride for another time. Oliver signaled again, so Lyra took the initiative to fling the door open and encourage the puppy outside.

The puppy took off without hesitation, barreling towards Dorothea. Oliver had taken her shopping bags to rush inside, so she was free to sink to her knees with open arms. When the puppy launched himself at her, she wrapped him in a hug and squealed.

“Oh my goodness! You’re so cute!” Dorothea rocked the puppy side to side.

Ashe and Lyra walked over to where Dorothea was sitting in the cool dirt. They arrived not a moment too soon. Dorothea’s expression shifted to confusion as she held the puppy away from her, inspecting his neck. She rose to her feet, holding the dog in one arm while she used the other to investigate the objects tied to the ribbon.

As Dorothea read the brief note, Lyra reached over and gave Ashe’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. As Oliver jogged up to join them, Ashe settled onto one knee. When Dorothea looked up from the paper, her eyes were shiny with tears that threatened to spill from her smile-crinkled eyes. Lyra flitted over and took the puppy out of Dorothea’s hands.

“Dorothea Arnault, will you marry me?” Ashe felt like he would fall over if someone blew on him, but his voice came out as confident as he could’ve hoped for.

“Yes,” Dorothea croaked, dropping to her knees to be at eye level with Ashe. “Yes, of course.”

Lyra and Oliver cheered, causing the puppy to bark along. Dorothea sobbed softly as Ashe slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a simple silver band with a tiny white gemstone set inside, but it was the result of months of hard work and saving that Ashe knew Dorothea would appreciate. When she’d settled down enough from trying not to cry, Ashe pressed his lips against Dorothea’s. The kiss was chaste and brief, but it left Ashe bursting with joy. He felt so blessed that Dorothea shared his desire to spend their lives together.

“Dorothea, what’s his name?” Oliver crouched down and held the dog as if Dorothea needed to inspect him to come up with something.

“Gally!” Dorothea answered with shocking speed, which earned looks of confusion that warranted explanation. “I’ve always wanted a dog named Gally. Named after one of my favorite book characters from when I was little.”

“Sounds like a great name for a great dog,” Oliver offered, giving Gally a scratch behind the ears.

Lyra and Oliver exchanged looks before making their way back to the house. Left alone, Ashe and Dorothea shared another kiss. Their pants were growing damp from sitting in the dirt so long, but that was hardly worth acknowledging when they’d just gotten engaged. When they broke the kiss to rest their foreheads together, Ashe felt like he had everything he could ever need right here on the farm.

* * *

**7th of the Harpstring Moon, 1187**

Standing at the end of an aisle lined with sheet covered wood planks resting atop hay bales, filled with guests, Ashe wrestled with his emotions. Jubilation and disquietude ebbed and flowed against one another, leaving Ashe to fidget and ruminate about how lucky he was to be standing here.

His primary source of comfort was having Oliver beside him in a matching outfit, standing under an arch of foliage. A cowbell with the words “ring for a kiss” painted on the front hung behind Ashe, ready to ring out when the vows were done. Oliver was officiating the wedding, excited at the opportunity to get involved.

Hearing the back door of the house creak, Ashe fussed with his outfit. The dark brown of his jacket looked striking against his white button-up shirt, which was secured at the neck with a matching plaid brown bow tie. Ashe double-checked that the red rose pinned to the left side of his chest was securely fastened as Lyra rounded the corner.

Lyra’s dress settled at her knees with thin straps over her shoulders, colored a deep red that brought out her freckles. Her pale silver hair was braided over one shoulder, a few strands loose around her face. She wore her black work boots, cleaned for the occasion, to keep her steady on the damp grass. She gave a shy wave to Alexander Lietta–who Ashe had learned a few days ago was her newest sweetheart–before she turned towards the house.

“Please stand to welcome the bride!” Ashe gulped, preparing himself for what came next.

As much as he’d tried to brace himself, there was nothing Ashe could do to control the torrent of emotion that barreled into him when Dorothea stepped out of the house to the cheers and applause of their guests.

Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, a crown of red and white flowers resting atop her head. She was draped in delicate white lace, the pattern of flowers on leafy stems swirling over her body. The loose half-sleeves, queen neckline, and fitted waist framed her torso while her lower body disappeared into a long skirt. The flowing fabric gave her the appearance of floating over the grass. The most stunning part of her, however, was her dimpled grin.

Ashe didn’t realize he was crying until Dorothea started to blur in his vision.

The guests settled as she drew closer to Ashe. “Hello,” she whispered, only for them to hear.

Ashe half-sobbed, half-laughed. “Hello.”

As Ashe sniffled, Dorothea stepped into place and faced Ashe, linking their hands. Lyra stood behind Dorothea, smoothing the back of the dress and offering Ashe moral support through bright smiles. Ashe squeezed Dorothea’s hands, soothed when the gesture was returned. The guests were given a moment to settle back into their seats. Once everything seemed back in order, Oliver cleared his throat. Ashe and Dorothea turned to listen.

“It is with a deep sense of joy and excitement that I welcome you all here to witness the marriage of Ashe Ubert and Dorothea Arnault. This day has been eagerly awaited for just over a year, and now that it has arrived, there is one remaining question I must ask of you, our guests. Is there anyone in attendance today that wishes to present a reason to stop this marriage?” Oliver spoke loud and confident, giving only a superficial pause before continuing. “Excellent. With that, I pass your attention to the bride and groom, who will now exchange their vows.”

Ashe took a shuddering breath as he looked at Dorothea, marveling at a stray tear sliding down her face. Reaching out and brushing it away, Dorothea giggled as more tears followed. Realizing his own tears were flowing and Dorothea’s weren’t going to stop either, Ashe took her hand again and chuckled.

“One, two, three,” Lyra whispered, cueing the couple.

In unison, Ashe and Dorothea began reciting the area’s traditional vows. “I pledge my love to you, and everything that I own. I promise you the first bite of my meat and the first sip from my cup. I pledge that your name will always be the name I cry aloud in the dead of night. I promise to honor you above all others. Our love is never-ending, and we will remain, forevermore, equals in our marriage. This is my wedding vow to you.”

When the vows were done and silence hung over the ceremony, Ashe was left with the sensation of his heart slamming against his chest. Dorothea’s hands shook against Ashe’s, her alternative to tears that would further disrupt the makeup Lyra had helped her apply. When a calm breeze danced with Dorothea’s hair and widened her smile, Ashe knew this was meant to be.

Lyra stepped to Oliver and handed him the wedding bands, simple silver to match Dorothea’s engagement ring. “With these rings, be reminded daily of your vows and the promises you’ve made to one another.”

Ashe and Dorothea let their hands fall away from each other. They took the appropriate ring from Oliver and turned to face each other. This time, Dorothea was the one to take a breath so deep and emotion-steeped that it made her chest shake. Oliver nodded to Dorothea, prompting her to move on to the next part of the ceremony.

“With this ring, I pledge to hold true to our vows each day. I will wear it proudly, so all may know that my heart is held by my husband.” Dorothea slid the ring on as she spoke, keeping her eyes steady on Ashe’s throughout.

Ashe’s tears finally relented, giving way to unbridled joy as he cradled Dorothea’s hand, appreciating the new weight on his ring finger. “With this ring, I pledge to hold true to our vows each day. I will wear it proudly, so all may know that my heart is held by my wife.”

With Dorothea’s ring settled on her finger, the couple turned to Oliver. He looked between them, and looked again, then once more with an increasingly mischievous smile. Ashe and Dorothea held back laughter, shifting on their feet with anticipation.

Dropping his formality, Oliver held a hand up over his eyes and reached over to grab the string on the “ring for a kiss” bell. “I pronounce you Ashe and Dorothea Ubert. You may now kiss.”

While their guests laughed at Oliver’s humor and the bell chimed, Ashe and Dorothea threw themselves together. Wrapped up in a hug, they kissed. Ashe felt giddy with Dorothea’s lips on his, the moment so unique that it felt comparable to their first kiss. When they parted to spare their guests from an excessive display, they started laughing. Dorothea fell into Ashe’s chest, the sound of her joy an indescribable treasure.

In a moment of spontaneity, Ashe lifted Dorothea in his arms. Dorothea yelped in surprise before letting her head fall back, her flower crown falling away. With one arm around Dorothea’s back and the other under her knees, Ashe took off running down the aisle. The shouting of their guests was almost deafening, but comforting in its absolute presence. Once he’d made it past the last row of hay bales, Ashe let Dorothea stand on her own again.

“I can’t believe it, we’re married!” Dorothea exclaimed.

“We sure are, Mrs. Ubert,” Ashe teased, kissing Dorothea’s nose.

Dorothea squealed as the music started to play, courtesy of Alexander and a few of his friends. “Get over here!” Lyra shouted, waving frantically at the newlyweds.

Glancing at each other and shrugging almost in sync, Dorothea and Ashe ran back into the crowd hand in hand. They shuffled through countless congratulations and thank you exchanges before they caught a break to dance for real. Finding space off to the side of everyone, Ashe and Dorothea swayed as one.

“I love you.” Ashe absorbed himself in Dorothea’s eyes, the flowery scent of her hair, the pink tint from the sun over her cheeks.

“I love you, too.” Dorothea looked like she was doing the same, basking in the private little world they’d created for the moment.

When the music changed to something more lively, the couple stepped apart. Dorothea shooed Ashe off towards his siblings. Before he could protest, she went and found a few of her friends from the marketplace to dance and chat with. Conceding, Ashe made his way to where Lyra and Oliver flailed in what barely qualified as dancing.

Leaping in between them, Ashe flailed along. The siblings soon made a circle and jumped around, laughing like little kids. It felt like a missing piece of Ashe was put into place. He laughed and screamed and cried with his family, carrying on as Dorothea joined in. As the grass bent under their feet and the soothing breeze rolled over their skin, a page turned and opened them up for a new chapter of life.

**Author's Note:**

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